Fishin' Chip
by amy.werner.794
Summary: Lee's plans for a quiet dinner with Amanda are threatened by a third party.
Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is the property of Warner Bros. and Shoot the Moon Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I'd like to thank Lanie Sullivan for her great beta work and her suggestion of a clever title for this story. 

Lee stealthily crept around the corner, mentally running down a list of all the possible hiding places that his quarry might have chosen to utilize. _He doesn't know who he's dealing with; he can't evade me indefinitely…but this has already wasted more time than I have to spare._ Entering the room, he remained perfectly still as he eyed the spots that could provide his adversary with cover. A low meow emanating from under his bed gave away the previously elusive kitten's location.

"Okay, Chip." He knelt down and raised the bed skirt, "Come out here and take your medicine like a man." The tiny ball of fur remained unmoving and seemingly unimpressed by his demand. _I admit that the medicine smells awful, and it probably tastes terrible, but I have to make sure that he takes it._ "Chip, I'm doing this for your own good. You've put it off long enough. Once you take it, I'll put out your dinner," he cajoled as he flattened himself to the floor and studied the kitten. _I hope that you're hungry; I certainly am. Amanda will be here for our dinner date…well, the friendly dinner I invited her to. Hell, Stetson, it's a date no matter what you choose to call it. You know it and she knows it._ Chip held his position so he snaked his long arm under the bed and attempted to grab him. The doorbell rang startling them both. "I'll be back; this isn't over," he declared as he withdrew his arm and stood up.

He rushed to let Amanda in, only stopping long enough to rake a hand through his hair and take a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves. Pasting on a deceptively relaxed smile, he opened the door and greeted his guest.

"Hi, come in, I'm glad that you accepted my invitation." She returned his smile but she was looking at him strangely.

"You're a wonderful cook and we haven't had much time to spend together away from work lately…but maybe this isn't a good time for you? You look…" Her voice trailed off as she awkwardly twisted the strap of her handbag.

"How do I look? I've been preparing for tonight for hours. Dinner is almost-" He quickly sniffed then continued in dismay, "Ah hell, it's burning." He rushed towards the kitchen with Amanda on his heels. As he grabbed a pair of potholders and withdrew a baking pan from the oven, Amanda noticed the other components of their dinner were at varying stages of readiness.

"Look at this, it's ruined…this whole evening is turning into a huge mess," he groused as she tried to stifle a giggle. "It's not funny; this was our dinner and now look at it."

"Calm down, whatever it was, was only part of our dinner. Something else is wrong here; you're a 'mess' too."

"What are you talking about," he questioned irritably, removing the potholders and flinging them onto the countertop.

"Umm, the back of your left arm is covered in dust bunnies and you've got some in your hair too. What's going on? Is there something that I can help you with?" She reached out and began to pull the fuzz from his hairline.

"This is all his fault. When I get my hands on him and I will," he swore as he swiped agitatedly at the back of his arm.

"What did Chip do?" _Don't laugh, no matter what he says it'll only set him off even more._

"It's not what he did; the problem is what he won't do. I don't care what that damn book says, it's time for him to understand who's in charge around here."

"What book?"

"I'm out of my league here so I bought one of those advice books. The Colonel always said that he would have done better with me if I'd come with instructions."

"He mentioned that to me too." _For a man who is still insisting that Chip being here is only a temporary situation…well I'm not fooled but I'll play along with him._ "What book did you get?"

"The really famous one by that parenting expert…what's his name…Mr. Spock?" At that, she dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that left Lee wondering what he said that was so funny. Reining herself in, she turned to him and explained.

"Dr. Spock wrote the book; Mr. Spock is a "Star Trek" character."

"I'm sure people confuse the two all the time," he replied defensively, hands on his hips. "Dr. Spock," he emphasized, "suggests that parents…um, caretakers be permissive. I've been trying it, all the Colonel's discipline never worked with me, but permissiveness isn't working out well either. This is my apartment but Chip's been doing as he pleases. He's hiding under my bed as we speak; he refuses to take the antibiotic that the vet prescribed." Lee raked his hand through the same patch of hair that Amanda had just smoothed down. "Did you ever read his book," he queried earnestly.

"Yes, I've read it." She carefully matched his serious tone as she continued. "I've found that children need discipline and structure so that they know who's in charge. I give the boys some freedom and I encourage them to express their thoughts and feelings…but ultimately, I'm the parent and my decisions are final. I think they find that balance comforting because they always know what their boundaries are."

"Do you think that…balance…is what Chip needs?"

"It's worth a try. I assume that we won't be having our dinner until he takes his medicine." She gazed at the partially prepared meal longingly while she waited for his reply.

"I'm sorry," he said with a sheepish expression on his face. "He needs that antibiotic. I may not always listen to doctor's orders when they apply to me, but-"

"It's okay; I understand. C'mon partner," she urged as she took his hand, "the sooner we get him out from under the bed, the sooner we all get to eat."


End file.
